Not Enough
by Adeline
Summary: Couple weeks after Lockdown (blegh!), a truth dawns upon Abby. That sounded cheesy, indeed, because I don't like summaries.
1. Default Chapter

Title: Not Enough  
Author: Adeline  
  
Rating: Heh. PG-13 just to be on the safe side. I tend to curse a bit.  
Archive: Ask first.  
Feedback: would be great.  
  
***  
  


Not Enough

  
  
  
Abby lay awake tonight, unable to go to sleep. Too many thoughts were preventing her from putting her mind at rest, tonight. Tonight... Tonight had been their first time together, hers and John's. And now, in spite of her own reluctance to accept it, as she was lying in his bed, beside him blissfully asleep and ignorant, Abby was getting a feeling like she didn't belong.  
  
**.:://::**I give up...**:://::.**  
  
**.:://::**What does that mean? What does that mean, what does that mean?**:://::.**  
  
**.:://::**I'm done! I'm done, okay? Carter can have you!**:://::.**  
  
  
Those were the last words he'd said to her, that really mattered. And Abby couldn't stop thinking about them, that one fight, that one night, and its terrible outcome. _Carter can have you._ That had truly hurt her. Many things that were said had hurt both Luka and her, but his last words had been the worst. The only thing she could think to do to attempt to hurt him in the same way, was to say nothing and walk away.  
  
So, Carter could have her. What was Luka thinking? That she could go from one man to another without a second thought? That she hadn't had any feelings for him, that she was inhumane? Because if that's what he was thinking... if that's what he was thinking, well, he was wrong. Abby could not do that; she could never do that. Whatever it was that they'd shared, she knew she'd have trouble getting over it. Over him. And she did have trouble.  
  
The truth is, she didn't as of yet know for a fact that she was over Luka.  
  
Yet, she had done it. Slept with John Carter. Carter had eventually had her. God, she really had done it. Abby would not find rest in his bed.  
  
Instead of lying there content and contemplative, as had once been her usual behavior, Abby was restless. She felt like running away.  
  
Maybe she would. Gently brush away the sheets, and slip out of her own apartment. Wander the streets by herself. She did need the time alone, more than anything, regardless of the ungodliness of the hour. It was a little past 3am. It was raining outside. She hadn't noticed when it started, because she'd been occupied torturing her soul.  
  
John was scheduled to work at 7. That left her a little over 3 hours. Unless she didn't come back before he left for work. If he did leave at all. Knowing John Carter, he might as well wait patiently for her return, confused as a lost puppy. Hmph, the mental image made Abby smirk despite herself. John was a big boy, and she needed the air.  
  
  
***  
  
  
Luka had noticed Carter looking at him strangely all day, but hadn't paid any particular attention : he knew Carter resented him, for whatever reason. He was subsequently surprised when at the end of his shift, the younger man asked him, in as casual a manner as he could try to fake, if he'd heard from Abby today.  
  
He opened the door to the lounge as Luka was at his locker, swallowed his pride. "Hey, Luka, have you, uh..." He coughed slightly to grab attention. "Have you seen Abby today?"  
  
Luka, confused by the very question, turned around to face the man leaning on the doorframe. "No, I..." He shrugged, "assumed she took the day off. Why?"  
  
"Oh." Carter titlted his head back a bit, torn between relief and more worry. "I just... haven't been able to get a hold of her."  
  
"You worried?"  
  
This was taking more humility than Carter would normally care to show, but indeed, his worry for Abby took over. "Somewhat, yeah."  
  
Luka nodded understandingly. "I'll call if I hear anything."  
  
Carter looked at him for a full second. Huh, taking help from Kovac, who thought he'd see the day? "Uh, yeah." He scratched his head for effect, "Let me give you my--  
  
Luka interrupted, with a muffled chuckle and a somewhat sheepish smile which made Carter dubious. Like they were friends or something... "She put you on my speed-dial," Luka explained.  
  
"She did?" Carter couldn't suppress the boyish smile that had sprung up on him. "Oh, well, sure, that'd be great." He exited the lounge with a hopeful nod, "Thanks."  
  
Luka grabbed his coat and shut his locker. "No problem," he said, barely above a whisper, more to himself than anyone else.  
  
  
***  
  
  
Abby stepped out of that bar she'd never been to before today, and onto the sidewalk. First drink in two frickin' months, wouldn't they all be proud? First drink, and second drink, and third drink, before the barman stopped serving her. Said she was "jus' havin' a shit day" and shouldn't "try an' drink it awaye." Why a barman of all people would ever tell anyone that, Abby didn't know. But she knew he was right.  
  
She stopped drinking right then & there and headed out of that dump; started self-loathing instead. What a horrible person she was. She had to be truly horrible to disappear on Carter like that. He'd been nothing but good to her, the poor fool. She had to be truly awful to never once tell Luka about her alcoholism in the whole fucking year they'd dated. God knew he wouldn't have judged her for it. She had to be truly unfeeling to keep rejecting her mother the way she always did. Her childhood was in the past now.  
  
One might say Abby was just truly confused, but Abby herself knew better than that. People say they're confused, and other people believe them and pity them and forgive them. In truth, that was just an excuse people used, to take the blame off of themselves. Nothing was ever your own goddamn fault, when you were confused. Cheat on your wife all you want, shoot up, go off your meds voluntarily, knock up a French waitress... Everybody in this goddamn town got awfully confused at some point or other. What harm was a couple drinks gonna do? She was confused, too, after all.  
  
It only hit her after she'd walked along a couple blocks in a direction she hadn't taken since... a lifetime ago, it seemed. She had to indeed be pretty damn confused to subconsciously be heading _that_ way, considering the place she was originally running from, and the situation which had set her running in the first place. And didn't she look like quite the hypocrite now, after that lecture she silently gave herself about confused people? But she was beyond the point of caring now, whether she was being a hypocrite. All she knew was, it was nearing midnight and she couldn't go home. She couldn't go home, and she couldn't stay on the street, with those countless shiny signs, and the inviting music oozing out of wide open doors, begging for her come through and lose control, and the...  
  
No. Abby lowered her head to the ground, averting her eyes. She kept walking her way.  
  
***  
  



	2. Chapter 2

She felt the sweat beads on the back of her neck as she was about to knock  
on the door. The walk had been much longer than she'd remembered, probably  
because she hadn't taken it in so long. Or maybe because it was cold out,  
and she was lonely, and didn't everything just seem so much worse on nights  
like this? She could have stood here indefinitely, pondering whether she  
should enter his life again, but the looming silence of the hall made her  
aware of herself. She didn't want to be stuck in moments like these anymore,  
she didn't want to have any more days like these, where just one drink too  
many might send her over a rail and into the lake; or God knows where else.  
She didn't want to be the one she'd been in spite of herself for the past  
several months. She wanted something right to happen. She wanted change.  
  
He was profoundly surprised to see her there, but pulled his door wide open  
nonetheless.  
  
***  
  
Carter had gotten off at midnight. He had initially been scheduled to leave  
work at 8, but Deb had had to leave unexpectedly and he'd gladly offered to  
cover for her. Told her he didn't mind. Which he didn't, but the reasons why  
were unclear. He didn't mind not going to Abby's place and finding her  
absent still. He didn't mind not going home and finding a message on his  
machine, telling him she needed time. He didn't mind not waiting, hours on  
end, to hear about her at last. He didn't mind not being called from the  
ex-boyfriend's phone and being grateful for that.  
  
He didn't mind having to keep focused on work, smile at patients, tell  
himself he was being paranoid. He didn't mind trying to hope she'd be safe  
and sound asleep in her apartment by the time he'd get off. He didn't mind  
not worrying himself sick. He didn't mind not dwelling on her. He didn't  
mind ignoring what he thought, with all his mind, to be the truth.  
  
***  
  
They stood a couple of feet apart. He was leaning against the back of the  
couch and watching expectantly.  
  
"I... I don't know why I'm here!" She told him in response.  
  
"I didn't ask."  
  
"I... don't love him." She started pacing anxiously and spoke loudly.  
  
"Carter?" Luka asked.  
  
"I mean, he's great." Abby went on. "And he does his best, but... I just...  
don't."  
  
"Hey... It's not your fault."  
  
"But I don't even know why! God!" She shouted, more to herself than to  
anyone else.  
  
"You don't have to have a reason." Luka soothed.  
  
"I... why am I even here, telling you?"  
  
He hesitated a bit before suggesting a possible explanation. "Did you..." He  
paused, and never finished his sentence. Instead, he gave Abby an  
awkward, pregnant look.  
  
"Oh, crap. You know, I..." She threw her hands in the air in frustration. "I  
think I did. Maybe I did love you, yes."  
  
An awkward silence ensued that revelation.  
  
"Wow, I'm messed up." Abby exclaimed, shameful.  
  
Luka smiled with sympathy and reached out to stroke her arm. "How are you?"  
  
"I'm fine," came the automatic response. But he didn't buy that, she could  
see it in the way he was looking at her. "What? I am!" She insisted.  
  
"It's 1 AM, Abby. You've been off wandering all day." Luka stated with a  
faux-shrug. "Nobody's always fine." He said simply, almost sorrowful.  
  
Abby didn't know where to look. Her eyes stung, but she wouldn't let him see  
her break. "I..." She looked away. "I couldn't go home."  
  
Luka nodded in silence and watched her fatigue-ridden figure. He slowly  
nodded in sympathy, then he let a few moments go by, enough time for her  
to brush a strand of hair behind her ear, before he asked again,  
persistent. "How are you?"  
  
Abby looked up to his face and down at her feet again. "I'm... I'm okay, I  
guess."  
  
"You guess." Luka echoed, gently pushing for further explanation.  
  
"No, I'm..." She gave Luka the Innocent You're-Kidding Look, "I'm  
doing all right." She shrugged.  
  
"Abby, you came here in the middle of night! Give me some credit here, I  
know you're not--  
  
Abby snapped at him. "I'm doing..." But she trailed off, seeing that Luka  
was having none of her bullshit. "I'm doing," she sighed, "what I think is  
best for me."  
  
Luka merely nodded, not quite convinced. "And does that seem to be working?"  
  
"Yeah, it's... I'm getting there."  
  
"And where is that? You only got here, tonight."  
  
"I," Abby was growing tired of this conversation. So he wanted her to  
confess she was lost and confused and not heading any damn place? Fine! "I  
don't know, Luka!"  
  
He shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. "You don't know!  
You're doing what you think is easiest, safest... You come to me out of the  
blue, and just what am I supposed to do? You want the fast way out of  
whatever it is you're running from, but..." Luka paused to breathe. "I don't  
have all the answers. I can't always be your lifeline."  
  
Abby remained silent as a scolded child, and looked away and back at Luka  
and away again anxiously. "Can I crash on the couch?" She eventually asked  
meekly.  
  
"In a minute."  
  
Abby rolled her eyes and sighed, facing away. "I thought you knew me, Luka."  
The disappointment in her tone was obvious enough, but very obviously not  
genuine.  
  
"And I thought I knew you." He retorted, disturbingly uneasy. "You seem to  
take this all as a game, and you hurt... people. I don't want to tell you  
how to live, Abby, but--  
  
"Well then, what do you *want*?" She spat out, frustrated and almost  
yelling.  
  
"What do you *think* I want?" He shot back. "I want..." His voiced softened.  
"I want you to get what's best for you, Abby, whatever that is. I want you  
to be happy."  
  
A few moments passed by in silence, as she was visibly struggling with  
herself. Her eyes were glistening.  
  
"Have you had..." He felt almost bad asking this, but he cared, and he had  
to know. "Anything to drink today?"  
  
"I..." She was going to lie again, but found herself unable to, probably  
because tiredness and this new insidious headache wouldn't let her think  
clearly enough right now. "I didn't mean to." She revealed in a sigh  
instead.  
  
"Abby."  
  
"No, I... No, you know what? You're right. *I decided* to walk into this  
bar, and *I decided* to have all those beers."  
  
He just looked at her, not knowing how to react.  
  
"But it wasn't easy, you know. Just as it wasn't easy coming here. I thought  
you'd understand."  
  
"I do... and I don't." Luka admitted. "I don't understand what you expect  
from me, and right now I'm thinking you came here just because you had  
nowhere else."  
  
"I *had* nowhere else, I guess. I could've stayed on the street, you know."  
  
"I know."  
  
"But I didn't want to stay on the street. And you wouldn't want me to stay  
on the street." Abby felt low for that one.  
  
"Is that a reason? Carter wouldn't want you to stay on the street. This just  
isn't about either of us. It's about you."  
  
"Can you... can you please not mention him? Please?" Abby suddenly choked on  
a lump in her throat.  
  
"I... I just don't know what you want from me here."  
  
She looked at him for a long minute. Saw how much he cared, how confused he  
felt, how helpless. She always could read in his face things others never  
saw. She surrendered to the need for answers at last, taking a few steps  
toward him, relieving herself. She was on the brink of tears.  
  
But Luka stood still, unsure. This wasn't right. It didn't seem right. He  
was watching her still, and saw a tear spill over. "Damnit, Luka, I want you  
to  
hold me!" She pushed herself into his chest again, unknowingly tugging at  
his heart, so much.  
  
"Shhh, okay..." He slowly reached out an arm to hug her close and rocked her  
to a slow, comforting pace. "Shhh... It's okay. It's okay."  
  
His voiced was soothing and his body was her shelter.  
  
They stayed like this for almost two hours, until she fell asleep. Then he  
gently carried her over to his bed, and moved out of room making as little  
noise as he could. He'd take the couch tonight.  
  
Before he could rest his mind, though, he knew he ought to call Carter, tell  
him where she was. So he did. 


	3. Chapter 3

***  
  
Abby woke to the smell of coffee. That poor excuse for a coffee Luka still drank, despite her claims that it tasted like Turkish mud. Maybe she was dreaming. The mattress was softer than hers, the pillows bigger. The sheets didn't feel like hers. And yet, despite the knowledge she shouldn't be there, she was overcome with a sense of home; one she hadn't felt in too long a time. Abby stretched slowly, basking in the feeling. Then she opened her eyes, took in her surroundings. Went back to reality. Right. The drinks, the walk. Luka's place, last night. Carter undoubtedly worried. It looked like the day ahead wasn't going to be an easy one. Abby let out a groan at the realization of all that was lying ahead, and pulled herself out of bed, and out of the room. Shuffled down the stairs.  
  
"Hey, you're up." Luka greeted her, frying pan in hand.  
  
"Hey," Abby said back awkwardly.  
  
"You get a day off today." He stated matter-of-factly, frying her eggs.  
  
"No, I don't." Abby replied. "I was MIA all day yesterday, Weaver's gonna want me there, for a double-shift no less."  
  
"Abby," Luka took on his softest patronizing tone, "I wasn't asking a question. You get today off."  
  
Abby stared at him dubiously. "What time is it?"  
  
"10:30," He affirmed after a quick glance at his wristwatch.  
  
"WHAT?"  
  
"I thought you'd need the sleep." He looked up. "So you're just going to work graveyard shifts next weekend." He served the eggs on a plate.  
  
"O, joy!" Abby exclaimed whilst rolling her eyes.  
  
A quiet moment passed. "I called Carter." Luka suddenly announced, slightly ticked off by her lack of recognition.  
  
"Oh." Abby responded, surprised. "I didn't know you--  
  
"You put him on--  
  
"Right." Abby sat down quickly, at a loss for appropriate reactions.  
  
"You don't want to know what he said?" Luka challenged her, dropping the pan in the sink.  
  
"I have a couple ideas." Abby said, slightly ashamed.  
  
"Yeah." Luka confirmed her implications. "You know you need to talk to him."  
  
Abby snickered under her breath. "Don't I know it."  
  
"Do it, then." He could tell she was unconvinced. "For the reasons you told me last night."  
  
"I was tipsy last night."  
  
Luka's head shot up, and he looked her in the eyes, disbelieving. She said nothing, and lowered her head. "Yeah. Didn't prevent you from finding your way here, though, did it? How long was it since you last came, anyway?"  
  
Abby looked up again after a few moments, with bloodshot eyes. Swallowing a lump, she barely audibly mouthed, "I'll talk to him."  
  
Luka nodded, and offered apologies for his tone in the form of a tight smile. "You should eat." He placed the plate in front of her.  
  
***  
  
Carter was, in theory, scheduled to work at 10, but Deb was doing back a favor, and covered for him until 2.   
  
Kovac had called last night, Abby was at his place. Of course Abby was at his place. With him. It had been almost 1:30, and of *course,* the place you'd expect to find your vanished girlfriend would be her ex's place; that made perfect sense. Told she was asleep, and she was okay, John hadn't asked questions. It was bad enough knowing where she was; if there were any reasons to be found, he'd rather hear them from Abby herself.   
  
He briefly toyed with the idea of calling her this morning, but he knew better of it. What good was that gonna do, when she was obviously running from him? He knew she was safe, that should be enough. It should be enough. Except it wasn't, because knowing she felt safe with Kovac, knowing she had ran from himself, made him feel too unsafe about them for her sole safety to be enough.  
  
***  
  
When he got to the hospital at exactly 1:58, Abby was nowhere to be found. (Again.) John could have done without the nagging sense of déjà-vu. What he also could've gladly done without, was everyone's acting as though they didn't care, as though everything was normal. He'd sworn to himself not to drag Kovac into his and Abby's business, but when he saw the taller man, he had to ask questions. Had to know if she was all right.   
  
"I talked Weaver into giving her today off."   
  
"That's not what I asked."  
  
"I know what you asked. I don't know an answer."  
  
"Oh, you know." Carter accused. "You just won't tell me."  
  
"Look, it's not my place to answer for her. If you've got questions, ask her, not me." Luka stated.  
  
Carter set his jaw for a moment, and looked down embarassed. "I uh... I don't think she'll talk to me."  
  
Luka gave a mild smirk in sympathy. "Just give it time."  
  
***  
  
That same evening when Abby got to her apartment, she knew he'd be there. She knew from the moment he had risen, this morning, he'd been wondering about her. She knew he'd been worrying, knew he'd been entertaining thoughts of her with Luka, and just as soon chastised himself for them. Knew he had struggled with himself not to call, and won. Knew he had struggled with himself not to wait for her tonight, and lost. Knew he wouldn't be getting any rest, knew he'd be blaming himself for everything, if they didn't talk. She knew him by heart; knew she couldn't keep this going. And as she opened the door and walked in, she was wary but resolved.  
  
And there he was, indeed.  
  
"I..." Greetings would have felt out of place. "Had to get away a while."  
  
"What did I do wrong?" John wondered aloud.   
  
"Nothing. But I did nothing right." Abby answered.  
  
"You were perfect."  
  
A smirked flashed across her face, but her heart wasn't really in it. "That's the thing," she said, "that's the thing..."  
  
"I don't understand," he said.  
  
"I don't understand, either," she echoed, "because I'm not perfect, and... I haven't been true."  
  
John stared at Abby's face, and thought he was beginning to understand. His heart fell, slowly, but at a steady pace nonetheless, and silence settled, hanging fearful of the answers to questions better left unasked.  
  
"So you went to him, huh?" He wasn't yelling; but his body language was screaming his ache at the top of his lungs. Abby had never seen him like this before.  
  
"I... I did." Abby sighed. He had to really care, if that had made him this upset.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"And I hate to doubt you... This is hard for me too. You're--you're always around him, or calling him, or whatever... and--and I feel... like you've been gone for a long time."  
  
Abby stared at him, saying nothing.  
  
"You love him, don't you?"  
  
"John..."  
  
"No, tell me, answer me! You think I don't notice the little things, is that what you think? I notice. The looks, the smiles, I notice it all. I wouldn't be asking if I didn't wanna know."  
  
She looked at him for a long time, and lowered her head to answer. "I'm... I'm not sure. I know I have... I'm sorry." She said at last, confirming his fears.  
  
His face fell, and for a moment he had to struggle to not let himself be overcome with the rawness of the feeling. He was almost incredulous. All along he had kept the hope that maybe, maybe he was just getting ideas, letting his imagination run away with him. He had chastised himself on a couple of occasions for not being trusting enough. And then there was the little voice in his head, his own voice, telling himself he'd known all along.  
  
"... and I hope..." She continued a tirade he had been too stunned to hear in its entirety. "I hope you don't love me anymore."  
  
"Wh?" He was just disarmed and confused.  
  
"Because... I know you have," she kept going. "And I'm sorry I never loved you that way. I'm sorry I hurt you."  
  
He looked into her eyes and looked away again immediately. He had hoped she may be lying. But her soul was bare; he could tell that much.  
  
"This is where I'm supposed to give you the whole 'friends' speech, huh?" She chuckled slightly and nervously twitched her mouth. "But it seems... I don't think you want to hear that right about now. I'm... sorry."  
  
He snorted sharply in faked bemusement. "Quit saying that, it's... not your fault, I guess." He looked up from his hands, which he had wrung out of nervousness throughout the conversation, and smiled a little sad, yet encouraging smile.  
  
"Thank you," she mouthed in silence.  
  
He just shrugged, numb and... somewhat relieved, surprisingly. This was the only thing she really wanted, that he could really give her.  
  
He was looking out the window as she retreated towards the door of the apartment, still facing him.  
  
"Goodbye."  
  
He heard the door click shut, and sighed. She was gone.  
  
As empty as he now felt, he was, in a very small place hidden at the back of his mind, glad she was gone. He had never meant to make her unhappy.  
  
"I'll put the key under the rug..." he murmured wistfully to no one.  
  
***  
  
[End part 3] 


End file.
